Kidnapped
by datawolf39
Summary: John and Greg are kidnapped. Poor kidnapper. pre-Mystrade pre-Johnlock T for to be safe.


**A/n**

**A random little fic that flowed from my fingers.**

* * *

John woke up in a place that was unfamiliar to him. It was an empty warehouse from what he could see and there was only one other person in the place with him at the moment. For once, it wasn't Sherlock. The other unlucky party was none other than Greg Lestrade of the NSY.

John guessed that he was the one that the kidnappers were targeting because Greg's enemies were more likely to shoot than kidnap. John grimaced as he pulled at the ropes that bound his hands behind him. Whoever had done the ropes was a very experienced knot person. Find that escape wasn't an option, for now at least, John decided to wake Greg.

"Greg." John called with as much volume as he could muster. His throat was really dry so he guessed that he had been knocked out for a while, but he couldn't remember anything that had led to this captivity. His last memory was of storming to the pub to meet Greg after Sherlock had gotten on his last nerve. Luckily for John's throat Greg was really close to him and had begun to stir at the sound of his name being called.

John watched as the DI took in the warehouse and then pull at his bonds.

"Don't bother those ropes are tied very well." John managed to say.

Lestrade tugged at them anyway, confirming what John had told him.

"What happened?" the DI asked.

John shrugged as best he could in his position. "Last thing I remember is being at the pub."

"Yeah that's about where my memories end too."

"How much do you want to bet that somehow Sherlock is to blame for this?" John questioned.

"Not a thing because I know that it's his fault."

"You two are half right," said a man behind them.

Both Greg and John tried to turn and see him, but the ropes held them securely in place.

The man's footsteps echoed loudly in the large space and the man came to rest right behind them just out of their sight. "It time to ask you both some questions about Sherlock and that brother of his his."

"We won't cooperate." John growled.

"Naturally," the man agreed. "You two are quite loyal to the Holmes brothers. So I have taken the initiative and given you two a little something to loosen your tongues."

John held in a groan. Of course he had been drugged. That explained the memory loss and the tingly feeling that had been with him since he woke up. In his defense though, he had attributed the symptoms to the drinking that he remembered doing. One look at his friend told him that they had, had quite similar thoughts after the revelation of having been drugged.

"Now what do the two of you know about a assignment that the older Holmes has taken on that goes by the codename 'Harmony'."

John struggled not to speak. He had overheard a snippet of a conversation that had to do with that project, but there was no way that he was telling this criminal anything, drugs or no drugs.

Luck was on his side because Greg spoke before he could break. "I know that it's important because Mycroft wore that super expensive black suit.

"Why is that important?" the kidnapper asked.

"It makes him look absurdly attractive. I know that everyone thinks that Sherlock got the genes for attractiveness, but Mycroft got his fair share too."

"You think Mycroft is hot?" John asked incredulously.

"You don't?" Greg questioned blushing.

"Well he has his charm." John answered surprising himself. "That brolly makes him look pretty regal, but I think that Sherlock's is far more attractive. He's tall, lean, and deceptively strong. He's the romanticized version of a vampire in the flesh. And his eyes... I could and do get lost in his eyes. His mind is captivating too; it's so beautiful."

"That's something that they have in common," Greg agreed.

"The mental prowess and the wardrobe."

"Do you think that Mycroft could pull off that purple shirt?" Greg asked.

John knew just the one that he was talking about. The purple shirt Sherlock owned that screamed seduction. "Perhaps navy blue would be a better color for him." John suggested.

Greg was ready to reply when there was a sudden explosion of pain in his head. From the grunt he heard beside him he knew that the same pain had been inflicted on John.

"I don't want to hear about your lusty little crushes on them. I want to know about the project 'Harmony'!."

"I heard them talking one day." John admitted not able to stop himself. "Sherlock was wearing that sheet he loves so much and Mycroft had on the same old posh suit as always."

Greg had to act fast. He could sense that John was trying to stall. Whatever this project 'Harmony' was he didn't want any information about it falling into the wrong hands even if that meant that he had to suffer more hits to his head. "I have seen Sherlock in that sheet. Do you think that Mycroft could pull it off as well as he does?"

At the pull it off bit John had to laugh. "Sherlock wore that sheet to visit royalty and Mycroft _did_ pull it off literally. Sherlock managed to catch it before it fell too far though. As for Mycroft I think he would look good in Egyptian cotton, although, I highly suspect his sheets are black silk."

At the image that put in his mind Greg found himself really turned on. The way that he had been tied to the chair offered no way to conceal the results of his lusty thoughts. He thought if he paid it no mind the others wouldn't either.

"Don't worry about it." John told him.

Lestrade gave him a confused look.

"I've been in your shoes or more accurately in your pants." the blond said with a knowing smile.

"You've gotten a hard-on during a kidnapping?"

"Well with Sherlock getting us in situations like this every other day it was bound to happen." John was prepared to elaborate when the same object that had connected with his skull before made contact with it again.

"Will you stop doing that!" John snapped at the man. "I can't give you any answers if I blackout from a concussion!"

"I blit my kunge!" Greg exclaimed.

"Is it bleeding?" John asked, his voice filled with concern.

"Nah it gus her lie gale," came the response.

"None of this would have happened if you two would have cooperated."

"Wrong," said a bored voice in monotone.

"None of this would have happened if you hadn't kidnapped the doctor and detective inspector." said another voice.

There was the sound off a brief scuffle and then the ropes that bound John and Gregory were cut.

"How long have you two been here?" John asked while checking Greg's tongue.

"Long enough to know that the both of you find us attractive," was the answer from Mycroft.

John closed his eyes and sighed. Stupid criminal. Stupid drug to make him talkative and truthful. Well since the brothers had heard there was no use trying to deny it now. He looked at Greg and found his own resignation reflected at him.

"Goo ou wah ay it?"

"I better, since talking won't help your tongue any." John turned to Mycroft and Sherlock before he spoke again. "Yeah I think Sherlock is sexy and Greg thinks that Mycroft the best thing since sliced bread." The implied 'and what of it?' hung in the air between the four men. Five if you counted the kidnapper knocked out on the floor.

When nobody said anything John did what he was trained to do. He took charge of the situation. He looked at the two brothers and found that both of them had a few minor cuts and bruises. Apparently, there had been more fighting than he realized. "We're going to Mycroft's place," he announced. His statement was met with two looks of confusion and one of excitement.

"I need to make sure the both of you are okay and Greg and I need supervision at least for tonight. The kidnapper hit us both in the head a few times so we may have minor concussions." He looked at the brothers with a meaningful gaze. The other reason was that he really was curious about Mycroft's sheets.


End file.
